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  • #76
    ^^ that was my sig until it got yellow stickered

    'The Obedient Wife'

    There was a man who had worked all his life, had saved all of his
    money, and was a real 'miser' when it came to his money.

    Just before he died, he said to his wife...'When I die, I want you to
    take
    all my money and put it in the casket with me.
    I want to take my money to the afterlife with me.'

    And so he got his wife to promise him, with all of her heart, that when
    he
    died, she would put all of the money into the casket with him.

    Well, he died. He was stretched out in the casket, his wife was
    sitting there - dressed in black, and her friend was sitting next to
    her. When they finished the ceremony, and just before the undertakers
    got ready to close the casket, the wife said, 'Wait just a moment!'

    She had a small metal box with her; she came over with the box and
    put it in the casket. Then the undertakers locked the casket down and
    they rolled it away. So her friend said, 'Girl, I know you were not
    fool enough to put all that money in there with your husband.'

    The loyal wife replied, 'Listen, I'm a Christian; I cannot go back on
    my word. I promised him that I was going to put that money into the
    casket with him.' You mean to tell me you put that money in the
    casket with him!?!?!?' 'I sure did,' said the wife. 'I got it all
    together, put it into my account, and wrote him a cheque....
    If he can cash it, then he can spend it.'

    Send this to every clever female you know, and to every man who thinks
    they are smarter than women!!!

    http://thechive.com
    Keep Calm
    and
    Chive on !

    Comment


    • #77
      Black women all over the world are shaving their pubic hairs todday in support of Obama's election victory.
      Their message to the world: "Read our lips, no more bush"!
      sigpic

      Comment


      • #78
        Australian Bricklayer Report:





        Possibly the funniest story in a long while. This is a bricklayer's accident report, which was printed in the newsletter of the Australian equivalent of the Workers' Compensation board.





        This is a true story.



        Had this guy died, he'd have received a Darwin Award for sure.......







        Dear Sir,



        I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 3 of the accident report form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident.



        You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.



        I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building. When I completed my work, I found that I had some bricks left over which, when weighed later were found to be slightly in excess of 500lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand I decided to

        lower them in a barrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building on the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it.



        Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks. You will note in Block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 135lbs. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope.



        Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel, which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explained

        the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collar bone, as listed in Section 3 of the accident report form.



        Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley. Fortunately by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able

        to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of beginning to experience pain.



        At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, that barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight.



        As you can imagine, I began a rapid descent, down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and several

        lacerations of my legs and lower body.



        Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked. I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back down onto me. This explains the two broken legs.



        I hope this answers your inquiry.
        Why be difficult?
        Put some effort into it and be IMPOSSIBLE !

        Comment


        • #79
          That is an old one that Rolf Harris used to tell. Except it was about poor old paddy.

          It's a song iirc.
          No amount of genius can overcome a preoccupation to detail.



          Comment


          • #80
            sorry Kiwi's I still love you


            Originally posted by Rob View Post
            Sitting together on a train, travelling through the Swiss Alps, were a Kiwi guy, an Australian bloke, a little old Greek lady, and a young blonde Swiss girl with very large hooters.
            The train goes into a dark tunnel and a few seconds later there is the sound of a loud slap.
            When the train emerges from the tunnel, the Kiwi has a bright red hand print on his cheek.

            No one speaks.
            The old lady thinks:
            The Kiwi guy must have groped the blonde in the dark, and she slapped his cheek.

            The blonde Swiss girl thinks:
            That Kiwi guy must have tried to grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled the old lady and she slapped his cheek.

            The Kiwi thinks:
            The Australian bloke must have groped the blonde in the dark. She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead.

            The Australian thinks:
            I can't wait for another tunnel, just so I can smack the Kiwi again.
            I am a rebel....
            [http://www.sloganizer.net/en/][/url]

            Comment


            • #81
              Supportive husband

              Doing the email rounds today, it would seem. Why am I thinking of FJSteve at the moment?

              Subject: Supportive husbands

              It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to shout at them. Some are over-sensitive and there's nothing worse than an over-sensitive woman.

              My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Julie. When I took early retirement last year, it became necessary for Julie to get a full-time job for the extra income that we need.

              Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I now usually get home from the pub about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she nearly always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't shout at her, instead I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch at the pub so eating out again is out of the question; I'm ready for some home cooked food when I get in.

              She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's usual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

              Another symptom of ageing is complaining. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to do the shopping during her lunch hour. But we take them for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then won't hurt her. I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

              When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She has to take a rest when she has only half finished mowing the lawn and several extra breaks when she's vacuuming through the house. It does annoy me, vacuuming when I'm trying to watch 'Match of the Day', but I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to make herself a nice cup of tea and just sit for a while, and as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.

              I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Julie. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your ageing wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

              EDITOR'S NOTE:

              Ron died suddenly last week. He was found with a 24-inch Stanleyscrewdriver rammed up his ar*e with only 2 inches showing.
              "Once upon a time we would obey in public, but in private we would be cynical; today, we announce cynicism, but in private we obey."

              Comment


              • #82
                FOR SALE:

                Complete and incomplete sets of Screwdrivers...all sizes. Must go...before 4.00pm today.
                Originally posted by Viper
                I'm probably fucking something up.
                FOREVER RIDING WITH "DAVO" - FarRider #1

                http://forum.fjr13.org/index.php
                Administrator

                Comment


                • #83


                  Thanks mods, forgot about this thread.
                  "Once upon a time we would obey in public, but in private we would be cynical; today, we announce cynicism, but in private we obey."

                  Comment


                  • #84
                    Never Take men shopping against their will



                    BANNED FROM
                    K- MART...........

                    This is why women should not take men shopping against their
                    will.

                    DON'T TAKE ME IF I DON'T WANT TO GO...........

                    After Mr. and Mrs. Fenton retired, Mrs. Fenton insisted her
                    husband accompany her on her trips to
                    K-Mart.

                    Unfortunately, Mr. Fenton was like most men--he found shopping
                    boring and preferred to get in and get out.

                    Equally unfortunately, Mrs. Fenton was like most women--she
                    loved to browse. One day Mrs. Fenton received the following letter from
                    her local K
                    -Mart.

                    Dear Mrs. Fenton,

                    Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a
                    commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behaviour and may be
                    forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against Mr.
                    Fenton are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance
                    cameras.

                    1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in
                    people's carts when they weren't looking.

                    2 . July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at
                    5-minute intervals.

                    3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to
                    the women's restroom.

                    4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official
                    voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away.'

                    5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of
                    M&M's on lay
                    -b y.

                    6. September 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a
                    carpeted area.

                    7. September 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and
                    told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and
                    blankets from the bedding department.

                    8. September 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he
                    began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?'

                    9. October 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it
                    as a mirror while he picked his nose.

                    10 November 10: While handling guns in the hunting department,
                    he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

                    11. December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while
                    loudly humming the ' Mission Impossible' theme.

                    12. December 6: In the auto department, he practiced his
                    'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels.

                    13. December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed
                    through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

                    14. December 21: When an announcement came over the loud
                    speaker, he assumed a foetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE
                    VOICES AGAIN!'

                    And last, but not least ..

                    15. December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited
                    awhile, then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!'

                    Regards,

                    K
                    -Mart..
                    Increasing my carbon footprint - one 500 @ a time...

                    Comment


                    • #85
                      Sorry for the Caps, cut and pasted

                      A HUSBAND IS AT HOME WATCHING A
                      FOOTBALL MATCH WHEN HIS WIFE INTERRUPTS,

                      'HONEY, COULD YOU FIX THE LIGHT IN THE HALLWAY?
                      IT'S BEEN FLICKERING FOR WEEKS NOW.'

                      HE LOOKS AT HER AND SAYS ANGRILY,
                      'FIX THE LIGHTS NOW? DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE 'POWERGEN' WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD?
                      I DON'T THINK SO!'

                      'FINE!'

                      THEN THE WIFE ASKS,
                      'WELL THEN, COULD YOU FIX THE FRIDGE DOOR?
                      IT WON'T CLOSE RIGHT'

                      TO WHICH HE REPLIED,
                      'FIX THE FRIDGE DOOR?
                      DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE 'FRIDGIDAIRE'
                      WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD?
                      I DON'T THINK SO!'

                      'FINE!' SHE SAYS
                      'THEN YOU COULD AT LEAST FIX THE STEPS
                      TO THE FRONT DOOR? THEY ARE ABOUT TO BREAK'

                      'I'M NOT A CARPENTER AND I DON'T
                      WANT TO FIX STEPS', HE SAYS, 'DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE 'TAYLOR WOODROW' WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD?
                      I DON'T THINK SO! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS, I'M GOING TO THE PUB!!!!'

                      SO HE GOES TO THE PUB AND DRINKS FOR A
                      COUPLE OF HOURS................

                      HE STARTS TO FEEL GUILTY ABOUT HOW
                      HE TREATED HIS WIFE, AND DECIDES
                      TO GO HOME

                      AS HE WALKS INTO THE HOUSE HE NOTICES
                      THAT THE STEPS ARE ALREADY FIXED.

                      AS HE ENTERS THE HOUSE , HE SEES THE
                      HALL LIGHT IS WORKING

                      AS HE GOES TO GET A BEER, HE NOTICES
                      THE FRIDGE DOOR IS FIXED.

                      HONEY, HE ASKS, 'HOW'D ALL THIS GET FIXED?'
                      SHE SAID, 'WELL, WHEN YOU LEFT I SAT
                      OUTSIDE AND CRIED. JUST THEN A NICE YOUNG MAN ASKED ME WHAT WAS WRONG, AND I TOLD HIM.
                      HE OFFERED TO DO ALL THE REPAIRS, AND ALL I HAD TO DO WAS EITHER GO TO BED WITH HIM OR BAKE A CAKE.'

                      HE SAID,
                      'SO WHAT KIND OF CAKE DID YOU BAKE?'

                      SHE REPLIED, 'HELLOOOOO.., DO YOU SEE 'BETTY CROCKER' WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD? I DON'T THINK SO!'
                      Designed by a Genius.
                      Built by Craftsmen.
                      Ridden by a TWAT!

                      Comment


                      • #86
                        When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to
                        take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know,
                        take
                        it out on someone you don't know.

                        I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd
                        forgotten
                        to make. I found the number and dialled it. A man answered, saying
                        "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak
                        with
                        Robyn Carter?"

                        Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in
                        number!" and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe
                        that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct
                        number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the
                        last two digits.

                        After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number
                        again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled " You're an
                        arsehole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word
                        'arsehole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple
                        of
                        weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call
                        him
                        up and yell, " You're an arsehole!"

                        It always cheered me up.

                        When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'arsehole'
                        calling would have to stop.

                        So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from
                        Telstra. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID
                        Program?"

                        He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone.

                        I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an
                        arsehole!"


                        One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking
                        spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot
                        I
                        had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been
                        waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For
                        Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.

                        A couple of days later, right after calling the first arsehole ( I
                        had his number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the
                        BMW
                        arsehole, too.

                        I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

                        "Yes, it is", he said.

                        "Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.

                        "Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It's a yellow house,
                        and the car's parked right out in front."

                        "What's your name?" I asked.

                        "My name is Don Hansen," he said.

                        "When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

                        "I'm home every evening after five."

                        "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

                        "Yes?"

                        "Don, you're an arsehole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to
                        my
                        speed dial, too.


                        Now, when I had a problem, I had two arseholes to call. Then I
                        came
                        up with an idea. I called Arsehole #1.

                        "Hello." "You're an arsehole!" (But I didn't hang up.)

                        "Are you still there?" he asked.

                        "Yeah," I said.

                        "Stop calling me," he screamed.

                        "Make me," I said.

                        "Who are you?" he asked.

                        "My name is Don Hansen."

                        "Yeah? Where do you live?"

                        "Arsehole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house,
                        with
                        my black Beamer parked in front."

                        He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start
                        saying your prayers."

                        I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, arsehole," and hung up.



                        Then I called Arsehole #2.

                        "Hello?" he said.

                        "Hello, arsehole," I said.

                        He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."

                        "You'll what?" I said.

                        "I'll kick your arse," he exclaimed.

                        I answered, "Well, arsehole, here's your chance. I'm coming over
                        right now."

                        Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I
                        lived
                        at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there
                        to
                        kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war
                        going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.

                        I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there
                        just in time to watch two arseholes beating the crap out of each
                        other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and
                        a
                        news crew.

                        NOW I feel much better.


                        Anger management really works...
                        Farrider #41
                        I'm not an alcoholic, alcoholics go to meetings,
                        I'm a drunk, I go to parties.


                        Comment


                        • #87
                          Not a funny email but i found THIS whilst trawling ebay this morning



                          Ive seen chicken fillets before, but ASS fillets?


                          Dubs

                          Comment


                          • #88
                            Originally posted by Dubs View Post
                            Not a funny email but i found THIS whilst trawling ebay this morning


                            Dubs
                            PSB Chrissie prezzie?

                            How do I link this to the "Beautiful Bottoms" Thread?
                            Why be difficult?
                            Put some effort into it and be IMPOSSIBLE !

                            Comment


                            • #89
                              Ireland's worst air disaster occurred early this morning when a small two-seater Cessna plane crashed into a cemetery. Irish search and rescue workers have recovered 1826 bodies so far and expect that number to climb as digging continues into the night.
                              Click here to see my Ducati 999R in the PSB garage... You'll love it!

                              Don't click here to see my ZX9R aka The Ginger Ninja... there's no link!

                              Comment


                              • #90
                                Got this one today. these always give me a giggle.


                                Greetings,

                                I have interest of investing in your country as well as seek your services in a private and confidential matter. I am a senior Auditor heading computing department here in our bank.

                                On my routine inspection I discovered a dormant domiciliary account with a Balance of ($10.850 Million USD}.I write to seek your indulgence and assistance in transferring this fund to your country through legal means.

                                I am proposing to make this transfer to a designated bank account of your choice in your country for investment. At the conclusion of this transaction, you will be given 30% of the total amount, 70% will be for me.
                                Let me know if you can handle it.
                                Please reply me through [peterkwesi5[email protected]] Regards Mr Peter Kwesi

                                I'm the noob you all pwn!

                                Comment

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